“I understand what Deya spoke about now,” Mr. Perrot said. “She told us that on the day she found the Chronicles, she was going to the pilgrim house. Her miracle in the river spared her that fate. Deya never forgot that gift. She told us she would go into those buildings from time to time and read passages from the Chronicles to the people there. She said the words brought hope and comfort to those who waited for the passing of their lives.”
“She sounds like an incredible woman,” Jogi said.
Mr. Perrot simply nodded.
The boatman, meanwhile, maneuvered the craft to a small landing in front of a set of stone stairs. Bodies were being cremated on either side, and mourners watched in traditional silence as the wrapped corpses of their loved ones evaporated into fine dust and ash.
“It is strange that we do not smell the burning of flesh,” Mr. Perrot said. “Even the burning of hair should emit an unbearable odor.”
“It is the banyan tree logs,” Jogi said. He paid the boatman as he and Mr. Perrot disembarked. “There is something about them and the sandalwood logs that negates the smell. My father used to tell me it was the blessing of the gods. See how brightly some of the fires burn? It is because of the small bags of sandalwood that are poured upon them.”
Mr. Perrot was mesmerized by the sights and sounds around him and by Jogi’s explanations of their significance. They climbed the many steps and soon stood in front of the domed temple.
“This temple is now abandoned,” Jogi explained. “It was built in the eighteenth century by Queen Ahalya Bai Holkar of Indore.”
Mr. Perrot took a moment to look across the river at the sun, which was about to break over the horizon. “How beautiful . . .”
Jogi nodded. He joined Mr. Perrot in admiring the dawn of a new day on the Ganges. The sun had now completely risen over the eastern horizon. “So what are we looking for now that we have arrived?”
“I don’t know, exactly,” Mr. Perrot answered. He took a note from his pocket and once again read Deya’s message:
In the once Great House
Where fire is and ashes rise
Where the ear stone fell
Will hold your prize
“So let us assume now that we have solved the first two lines of the riddle,” Mr. Perrot said, thinking aloud. “We certainly are where ‘fire is and ashes rise.’ But what is an ‘ear stone’?”
He and Jogi walked around the ghat grounds, looking for something, anything, that might help them decipher the riddle. As they wandered past the pilgrim houses, they came upon a tour group standing in front of the domed temple. The group had arrived to take in the sunrise and observe a cremation ceremony.
“There are many stories concerning how this particular ghat was created,” the guide explained to his group. “So I will tell you the one that I like best. Legend has it that before the Ganges River was even a river and before man walked the earth, Lord Vishnu dug a water well—or a kund—with his own discus. The well lies fifty meters away, just up the river.” The guide pointed north. “It is said that the kund was initially filled by Lord Vishnu’s own perspiration as he ardently performed his mystical disciplines. Lord Vishnu was so focused that he did not see that Lord Shiva had arrived or that Lord Shiva was so pleased with Lord Vishnu’s deeds that he started to dance. While doing so, Lord Shiva’s earring, known as the Manikarnika, fell into the well, blessing it for eternity. And that is how the ghat received its name. It is named after Lord Shiva’s fallen earring.”
Mr. Perrot and Jogi looked at each other. “ ‘Where the ear stone fell,’ ” Jogi said.
“It means where the earring fell,” Mr. Perrot added. “We need to find that well.”
Jogi led Mr. Perrot north along the river. Within a short distance, as the guide described, they came upon the Manikarnika Kund. The well was rectangular in shape, and all four sides had about fifteen steep symmetrical steps that sloped inward and down to a smaller rectangular basin. There was only a small amount of water left in the dried pool bed.
“Do you think she hid the books under the water?” Mr. Perrot asked.
“I don’t think so,” Jogi said. “My father told me that this pool fills with mud during the rainy season. Each time it does so, they have to clean it out. Which means the books would have been found or, more likely, lost forever.”
Mr. Perrot nodded, surveying the kund. He pointed to the north side of the pool, where a statue of Vishnu stood. “What are those large gaps on the side of the well, there near the statue?”
“Only one way to find out,” Jogi said. He started down the steps toward the openings. Mr. Perrot followed close behind. One of the gaps was large enough for a person to fit through. Jogi entered what appeared to be a tunnel. He used his PCD to illuminate the dark, narrow passageway, which didn’t lead very far, only about four meters.
Mr. Perrot had made his way in and began moving his hands over the walls. He noticed that some stones seemed smoother than others. “Could you shine some light over here, please?” he asked. “There’s something about this section of the wall.”
Jogi came over and shone his light where Mr. Perrot directed. “These stone blocks look newer than the ones around them,” he said. “Please stay here. I will return promptly.” Jogi left his PCD with Mr. Perrot and hurried from the tunnel.
Mr. Perrot continued to inspect the newer-looking stones. He took a seat in the tunnel on a broken slab in front of the wall he was studying, waiting and wondering what Jogi had in mind. His thoughts turned to his daughter. He wondered how Valerie and Logan were making out. I will call them later today, he thought hopefully. It wasn’t long before he heard clinking sounds outside the tunnel entrance, and Jogi returned with a couple of hammers and small iron picks.
“I purchased them from the wood cutters outside,” Jogi said. Mr. Perrot smiled. Then the two of them used the tools to loosen the stones from the wall. Soon enough, the blocks began to shift. Jogi used the pick to slide one forward and directed the light from his PCD behind the dislodged stone. He could see that there was some kind of empty space behind the wall. “Looks like there is a room back there!” he announced.
Mr. Perrot helped Jogi remove all four stone blocks from the wall, and soon a half-meter-square opening was revealed.
“I’ll go first,” Jogi said. He drew his gun and cautiously entered the room.
Mr. Perrot immediately followed. They were inside a small three-by-three-meter-square room whose ceiling was barely high enough for them to stand upright. The air smelled musty from the dampness of the ground under their feet.
“Well, this is most unexpected,” Mr. Perrot said.
Jogi squatted down and grabbed some dirt near his feet. “It must get flooded during the rainy season. Do you think Deya built this?”
“If she did, it looks like she had some help,” Mr. Perrot said. A hammer and a few other tools lay in a corner. “Maybe these are the missing tools Babu referred to. Though I don’t see any books or possible hiding places. Perhaps they’re buried in the dirt.”
“I don’t think we are going to find the books here,” Jogi said. He was looking at the wall opposite the opening.
Mr. Perrot walked over and joined him. “Yet another riddle.” Then he began to read the message chiseled into the stone.
It will be yours
For those who follow these understandings
Cross the great river, to the fort of old
Turn and seek the canopy protecting the jewel
Along the river to Shiva’s last stand
This is the path for you
If you seek what I possess
“And I thought the first riddle was difficult,” Jogi said. “The only part I have an answer to is ‘Shiva’s last stand.’ I think that is referring to Assi Ghat. The southernmost ghat along the river, where the—”
A sound coming from the opening interrupted Jogi’s explanation. He and Mr. Perrot turned around. A bright light was shining into their eyes, blinding them.
“Hello, Robert!” a voice called out as the light suddenly disappeared.
Two men had entered. It took only a moment for Mr. Perrot to recognize the dark eyes and arrogant bearing of one of them. “Simon!”
Jogi drew his weapon, and two shots rang out.
51
For a master teacher, the simple choice of a student to dare to cross into the unknown is the greatest acknowledgment of what the student has been taught.
—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA
OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN, MIDNIGHT, GMT,
23 HOURS UNTIL LIBERTY MOMENT
“Tell the teams they can’t take no for an answer,” Valerie instructed Alex on her PCD. “Make sure they remind the WSA that we’re consultants who are supposed to support their efforts any way we can. We need to know what the WSA is doing.”
“I’ll relay the message,” Alex said. “The trace came back on the money deposits into Monique Sato’s bank account. They came from an overseas account registered to the Sentinel Coterie.”
“Well, that confirms our suspicions,” said Valerie. “Fenquist must have been paying her to spy on Cynthia and the Council. Was there anyone she wasn’t working for?”
“We tried the last call she made from the airport,” Alex added. “But it went to an untraceable PCD.”
Valerie shook her head in frustration. “I’ll call you again when we land in Dharan.”
“Wait, there’s one more thing,” Alex said. “I got a message from someone at the WSA that Director Ramplet is looking for the frequency device we were supposed to send over. They can’t seem to find it anywhere.”
“It’s probably in transit through their bureaucracy. Tell them we’ll look into it when we get back.” Valerie turned off her PCD and rejoined Sylvia and Logan. The three of them were flying over the Atlantic Ocean in a WCF transport plane on their way to the Akasha Vault, which was located in the foothills of the Himalayas. Sylvia was explaining the particulars of the Vault to Logan.
“The WSA asked about the frequency device,” Valerie said, interrupting their conversation.
The three of them looked innocently at one another. “We’ll be sure to get it to them when we get back to D.C.,” Logan said as he unzipped his backpack, revealing the EMFE device. They all grinned. None of them was going to let the frequency generator out of their sight, at least not yet.
“Now, what were you saying, Sylvia?” Valerie said.
“The Vault is in the northern part of the city of Dharan.” Sylvia used a HoloPad to project a map of Nepal.
“Why choose such a remote location for storing all the world’s information, not to mention that quantum computer?” Logan asked.
“For that exact reason,” Sylvia said. “It’s a remote location, protected by the Himalayas to the north, surrounded by hills to the east and west, and the Charkose forest to the south. Dharan has a temperate climate year-round, and there are two rivers there which are used to cool the core of the computer and the Tesla coil that powers the facility.”
“The WFR spent a lot of money building and securing this facility,” Valerie added. “After the world lost so much technology and information during the Great Disruption, we needed a better way to protect data and information. Hence the Vault.”
“It was named after the Akashic Record,” Sylvia said.
Valerie looked at her blankly.
“It’s an ancient Indian term,” Logan explained. “It’s believed that everything that has ever happened in the universe since the beginning of time is recorded in a nonphysical realm. They call that place the Akashic Record.”
“A twentieth-century quantum physicist named David Bohm performed some interesting work in this field, trying to merge certain religious beliefs with science,” Sylvia added. “A couple of scientists who worked on the original design of the Vault gave it that nickname, and it stuck.”
She continued, zooming in on the map. “But back to the matter at hand. The newly constructed airport is to the east of the facility, on the other side of the river. We have to cross this bridge once we land.” She panned to another part of the projected image. “There’s an advanced transportation system, like a monorail, that connects the main facility with the airport and the town below.” She zoomed the map way out so that an image of the whole world was displayed. “There are sixty-six Vault satellites in orbit around the earth at an altitude of seven hundred eighty kilometers. They cover a surface area of almost eight million square kilometers. Every sixty minutes or so, one of them passes directly over the Vault, and the quantum computer there uploads all the new data it received within the last hour.” She zoomed to an image of one of the satellites. “Once a particular satellite receives the upload, it replicates that information and sends it to the other sixty-five satellites.”
“So that means there are always sixty-six constant backups,” Logan said. “Gives new meaning to the term vault of heaven.”
“That’s almost correct,” Sylvia said. “Deep underground, below the quantum computer, there are twelve more backup centers. They were built in case something happens to the satellites.”
“These satellites can deliver the frequency pulse?” Valerie asked.
“Yes, even though those WSA scientists don’t think so. I’ve read a lot of research on the Tesla coils in each of the satellites. They can pack a punch.” Sylvia rotated the satellite image. “Each of them also has a frequency modulation array, which they use to communicate with the Vault. Each one can independently change its communication frequency based on any normal atmospheric disturbance, small radiation flares, or low-disturbance solar storms. That helps to ensure that they are in constant contact with the Vault and the other satellites around them. So among all of them, they can cover the globe and not miss one inch.”
“I’m impressed that you know so much about how the Vault operates,” Valerie said with a raised eyebrow. “What’s the first step when we get there?”
“We need to make our way to the Satellite Control Center. If Simon and Andrea are going to use the Vault to send the pulse, they will need to do it from the SCC.” Sylvia zoomed to another image. “The SCC is underground, below the transmission array and above the quantum computer. The data centers and the power plant are located even farther belowground.”
The projection of the SCC was disrupted by an incoming call and a projection of Alex and Goshi. “We just got the biometric report on Monique Sato, and it confirmed that she was telling the truth,” Alex said. “MedicalPod records show that she received all her quarterly injections, but she didn’t show any signs of having a DNA collar. Looks like her story about the green pills is true.”
“So there must be some kind of antidote out there that prevents the collar from attaching itself to the DNA,” Valerie said.
“Lucius offered me one of those green pills when he stalked me at the museum,” Logan broke in. “I should have grabbed the whole damn container.”
Alex nodded. “We looked through the security footage from the airport and found a shot of the woman called Gretchen.” He brought up the image for all to see. It showed a close-up of a woman escorting Andrea and Lucius through an exit door at the airport.
“Who is she?” Valerie asked.
“We don’t know,” Alex said. “There’s no information about her anywhere. Even the WSA database doesn’t show anything.”
“We also have no idea how Monique’s identification glass and her PCD were reprogrammed,” Goshi said. “Whoever helped them with that had some pretty fancy equipment.”
“Fancy, as in WCF or WSA,” Alex added with a dour look.
“Are you saying that someone at the WCF or the WSA is helping them?” Logan asked.
Everyone was silent for a moment.
“Makes me wonder,” Alex said. “How did the assassin know that we had Monique in custody?”
After another moment of silence, Valerie said, “All we can do is keep putting the pieces together. Right now, our job is to stop the frequ
ency pulse. We’ll deal with the insider problem later.”
“There’s one more thing,” Alex said before Valerie could disconnect. “Make sure you check out the Daily.”
Valerie nodded and ended her call.
“What’s the Daily?” Logan asked.
“It’s a report we get every day that provides a brief of noteworthy criminal events from WCF and WSA offices around the world,” Sylvia explained. “Keeps everyone informed.”
Valerie projected the WCF Daily using the HoloPad. There was only a single item, a report from the WCF field office in Delhi, India.
Date:
July 20, 2069
Field Office:
Delhi, India
Report:
Eighty-six bodies were found in a remote village two hundred kilometers from Banaras, India. Cause of death is unknown. Bodies disintegrated at the morgue before autopsies could be performed. No survivors have been located, and no children under the age of fifteen were found among the deceased.
Action:
TBD
“Disintegrated,” Sylvia repeated. “Just like at the lab.”
Valerie nodded. “It appears that Simon and Andrea may have another EMFE device or some other localized way to deploy the frequency pulse.”
“Children,” Logan said in a low voice, as the faces of Jamie and Jordan flashed in his mind. He saw their smiles and their matching green eyes. “What do you think happened to the children?”
Neither Valerie nor Sylvia answered. But they could see the concern on Logan’s face.
He used his PCD and placed a call to his ex-wife; he wanted to speak with his children. But after several rings, there was still no answer. He ended the call and sat back in his chair. They were probably on their way to the nearby campground where they enjoyed spending Freedom Day and taking part in the lakeside activities. He shook his head in fear at the irony of it all. His children and the rest of the world would be celebrating their lives, while the Final Purging tried to end them . . .
Journey Into the Flame: Book One of the Rising World Trilogy Page 32
